


No One Ever Tried To Find Andrea

by astrangetypeofchemistry



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Character Death, Character Study, Gen, PTSD, Trigger Warnings, memtion of sexual harrrassment, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 22:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11450832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangetypeofchemistry/pseuds/astrangetypeofchemistry
Summary: This is the story of a broken girl, the one girl who no one sees. She's known by one name; Drew.





	No One Ever Tried To Find Andrea

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been sitting on my fanfiction account for years, and I just? Love Drew so much? I figured it was time I finally opened it to a wider audience. It didn't receive much feedback before.

The hands wrap around her neck, her back pressing to the wall as her mouth is smothered. She’s trying so desperately to pull away, to breathe, to stop, but she can’t. There’s more force being put on her, and she can’t stop noticing how her upper chest is throbbing from his weight on her.

And then he pulls back, smiling at her in that way she sees in her nightmares, her breathing, which has started to come back, being smothered again because she knows what’s coming next.

“Andrea,” he says softly, staring at her seven-years-old eyes through his 45-years-old ones, a disgusting lust taking over as he slides his hand to her private areas. “My my, how beautiful you’ve become.”

And then in that moment, he rips away the only clothing keeping her safe, destroying her innocence and making her suffer through what no one should, her shrill screams repeatedly covered by his mouth reeking of alcohol as he pushed into her in a way no one should with her age.

Her frame shoots up in her bed, tucking her knees into her chest in as the sun rose in the sky. The light from the sun illuminated the features of the girl sleeping across from her, and she sucked in a deep breath as her words whipped around for the millionth time.

_My dad’s Tristan McLean._

Drew won’t lie. She _hates_ Piper. But it wasn’t because Piper had Jason, Piper was Aphrodite’s favorite daughter, Piper’s dad was a famous actor, Piper was head counselor.

No, she hated Piper for an entirely different reason.

She remembers what she heard around, how Piper only got herself in trouble to get her father’s attention. This girl used her charmspeak just to be able to talk to the man who brought her into being. And Drew’s dad…

She remembered that awful night when she was four, tracing constellations with her pinky as she turned to her father watching her.

“Hey Daddy?” she had called, and he had smiled at her, telling her to go on. “Is it possible to bring stars for someone?”

He had chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at her innocent form. “Well of course, Andrea. If you really love someone, you wouldn’t hesitate bringing them stars.”

She pouted at him, frowning as she asked “Do you not love me?”

“Of course I do, my dearest.”

“Then bring me a star.”

She hadn’t known about her special power before, and she didn’t understand why her father immediately ran away, climbing the highest building to touch the sky. All she had known, as she saw her father plummet after his handhold and foothold crumbled, that there was something different in her voice. Something _powerful_.

So she never spoke another word, letting her father’s alcoholic brother take advantage of her, letting herself fall to pieces.

And then, by sheer goodwill, a monster had come after her and tried to destroy her. She had run away, but her uncle hadn’t been so lucky. Not that she cared.

So when she came to Camp Half-Blood, she threw away her identity. She stopped being Andrea, the broken little girl who sent her father to his death, and instead became Drew, the cold-hearted bitch queen no one would ever bother with.

Which isn’t to say she could forget everything. The years of having an animalistic presence pressing on her and destroying her left an impact. So she left tiny marks of her old self on her new figure.

As she stumbled into the bathroom to pull her shirt up a little, she could see the thin, pale scars stretching all across her stomach, crossing every now and then and creating a canvas of pain.

No one ever questioned why the girl who showed off her arms and legs fully never publicly flaunts her stomach. After all, no one would bother with believing she had a soul inside her.

So she gave disgusted looks when she was awed, snide remarks when she felt like complimenting, a bored tone when she was greatly interested, and no one ever tried to find the reality.

No one ever tried to find Andrea.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated. I always felt like writing a counterpart to this for Hera~
> 
> Find my PJO Tumblr here


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